Irene Sighs
written 07 June 2006

- - -

She perishes
in the corner
of your
perverse mind.
Shame.
You release
yourself
from selfish
stupor only now

Maybe at the Sabbath
you'll awake
when candles' smoke
undulates
your mirror's eye

and when words of denial echo.

But she wants you.
(echo.)
She wants you

precious and searching

words of denial echo.
She stands.

Exeunt.
(Perhaps forever.)

Why?
Why wait?

- - -

Note: I wrote this for someone I'll call 'Irene'. I ought to ask her Luminary: Why wait?